The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship
by Viwiel Singollo
Summary: Buffy crosses paths with Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey.


**Answer to the following prompt from Khiela Cadona:**

**Fandoms:**BtVS, White Collar

**Song:** _Still Counting_, **Volbeat**

The absolutely **last line** of the fic must be **_"So, what exactly did you want from me, Mr. Caffrey?"_**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>The shiny toys called Buffy the Vampire Slayer and White Collar are not mine.

**A/N: **I'm afraid this isn't by the same tone as the Volbeat's song is, but what can one do when the musie just don't cooperate?

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><p>˚ ˇ˚₀ ∆ ₀˚ˇ ˚<p>

**The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship**

˚ˇ˚₀ ∆ ₀˚ˇ ˚

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><p>"Are you sure she can help?" Neal asked.<p>

"Of course she can," Mozzie said resolutely. "She's like Wonder Woman and Catwoman all wrapped up in a tiny package. And don't tell her I called her tiny! Or that I called her a mix of Wonder Woman and Catwoman!"

"Relax Moz, I'll keep my mouth shut," Neal promised, all the while amused by his friends antics.

"You'd better! After what happened to Andrew..."

"What happened to Andrew?" Neal's eyebrows rose.

Mozzie shivered slightly, "He met the bad end of her wrath. Bye, bye, laptop, bye, bye…" the small man muttered the end darkly, mostly to himself.

"That bad, huh?" Neal scratched his cheek absent-mindedly. She must be one heck of an interesting woman.

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><p>Buffy had been taking miscellaneous jobs for several years now. Currently she had a stint as a bodyguard for an IT company's CEO for his stay in Manhattan. He had received some creative threats and decided he would rather be safe than sorry, and hired her. She had a good reputation in the right circles, and it had made him hire her despite of the reservations he had upon seeing her.<p>

Last time she had worked as a bodyguard it had been two months ago and her employer had been a rising rapper. Like said, her jobs and employers varied.

For the most of the time she worked as a personal trainer and a martial arts teacher at a gym near her apartment.

At the moment, she was attending a diner party with the CEO, Steve Anderson, and the sleaze-balls in suits were starting to grate on her nerves.

Even if she had an expensive silk dress on, it didn't change the fact she would be able to kick ass when needed and that was something the males in this party seemed to forget as soon as they caught a glimpse of her cleavage or leg.

If she heard one more _"A bodyguard? But you're so small!"_she'd stomp the heel of her beautiful, and very expensive, red stiletto sandal in the speaker's foot. Even if it had the potential to ruin the pieces of art in question.

A pair of men approached her, both younger than the average in this party. One of them was dressed in a regular working suit while the other one was decked in a clearly expensive suit and a fedora.

"Excuse me, Miss? Could you tell where I can find Mr. Anderson?" The older and more serious looking one of them enquired her while the other gave her a charming smile.

"Do I look like keep track of every damn creeper here?" the question just blurted out and the snarkiness of it caused the men to raise their eyebrows.

"No, don't answer to that," Buffy shook her head. "I'm sorry, you caught me at a bad moment."

She didn't usually make it a habit of jumping at innocent people's throats, but she had been here for nearly three hours without anything that could be called entertainment. That wasn't counting the woman who had had a little too much to drink and started to accuse her husband of cheating.

"That's fine. I can sympathize," the man who had asked the question brushed her glitch aside with an easy smile, glancing at the people around them. He had obviously come to the right conclusion about the reason behind her crankiness. She noticed as the younger one quirked his lips. She assumed he was amused by his companion's obvious dislike of events like this.

"He's over there," she tilted her champagne flute to the direction of sofas near the fireplace, answering his question, "getting a little too cozy with Mrs. Reese, if you ask me. But then again, who am I to judge," she shrugged her shoulders delicately.

"Thank you," the man smiled once more before he elbowed the other man into moving and they left her to watch as they navigated through the crowd to her temporary boss. The man who she had spoken with said something to Mr. Anderson who got up and they headed to the door.

As Anderson looked at her way, she lifted her eyebrow in a silent question. He answered with a shake of his head, no, she wasn't needed.

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><p>It had been a quite a while since her boss had left with the men, and she was starting to get worried. She went to ask the hostess of the party if she knew what was going on.<p>

She was taken by surprise when she was told the man asking her Anderson's location had been an FBI agent and that Anderson had been taken to the FBI corporate crimes department.

What the white collar crime investigators wanted with him she didn't know, but she had a feeling it wasn't anything good.

Damn it, she was silently seethed. She had been counting on this job to pay for this month's rent. Now that Anderson had been probably arrested, she'd have to pick up extra shifts at the gym. Bastard.

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><p>She had just gotten out of her morning shower and been in the middle of drying her hair when her phone rang. It showed a number she didn't recognize.<p>

"Hello?"

_"Miss Summers?"_a male voice questioned.

"Yes?"

_"This is agent Peter Burke, we met in passing in the party last night,"_ he elaborated._ "I'm afraid your employer, Mr. Anderson, has been arrested. We have a few questions we'd like to ask, if you could come to our offices to answer them."_

"Sure," Buffy agreed. It wasn't like she had work now that Anderson had been arrested. "When do you want me to drop by?"

_"Is this afternoon too early?"_

"No, it's fine. I'll see you then," Buffy ended the call.

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><p>"–and this storage unit was where?" Peter wrote down her reply in the same notebook he had written the previous ones as well.<p>

"I believe this was all. We'll contact if we need to know something more," he finished writing and flipped the notebook shut.

Miss Summers nodded, "You have my number."

"We do," Caffrey agreed, his tone was one that made Peter frown discreetly as he stood to escort her out. Caffrey and Miss Summers had flirted back and forth throughout the whole time Peter questioned her about her former employer's activities.

They had already exited Peter's office when Caffrey spoke up, "Buffy, I have to ask – I believe we may have a common acquaintance... Do you know someone called Andrew Wells? If you do, I heard you are the one to go to get help with something – rather unique." Peter was immediately on alert, it sounded like Caffrey was planning something. He'd have to keep a closer eye on him.

"I do," Miss Summers' voice was wary as she answered.

"A nerdy guy, very fond of his laptop?" Caffrey confirmed with a grin. Judging by the way Caffrey emphasized certain words, Peter guessed that something had happened to the laptop in question. The almost predatory smirk Miss Summers responded to that question was enough of an answer for both Peter and Neal.

"Miss Summers, I believe this the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Caffrey smiled in a way Peter knew by experience meant trouble.

"I'm certain of it," Summers responded with a mischievous smile of her own and linked her arm with Caffrey's. Peter had a really bad feeling about this.

The pair headed to the elevator, leaving Peter standing there alone.

He could hear Summers' voice faintly before the elevator doors closed: _"So, what exactly did you want from me, Mr. Caffrey?"_

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><p><strong><em>What do you think?<em>**


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